You are my friend
by Jae's Stories
Summary: "I want answers." "I'm a warlock." "Meaning?" "I was born with magic, I neither learnt nor studied it." Reveal oneshot. Russian translation available.


**A/N: I don't own Merlin. That was the luck of the BBC**

 **Hello again. This is another fic written in one night, I've proofread but there may be some mistakes, I'm not sure. This is a oneshot that's definitely lighter than my last, I needed a break from some of the more depressing stories I'm working on at the moment. Anyway enjoy, and don't forget to review, they really do make the world go round.**

 _ **Edit:**_ _ **An amazing person called lostenryefield has translated this story into Russian! If you want to read it, it's called** **'** **You are my friendТы мой друг', and they've done a great job with it.**_

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"I want answers." Arthur growled. He was wearing the dirt path down with his frantic pacing.

"The whole story." Merlin promised, leaning against an ancient oak.

It was bound to happen one day, Merlin was kidding himself if he thought hiding behind trees fending off bandits made him invisible. Still it had worked. Up until now, that is.

"I'm a warlock." Merlin was trying his best to remain calm. Anger, sarcasm or wit would only escalate the situation.

Five seconds later and everyone would be carrying on their day as normal. Five seconds later, and Arthur and Merlin would not be in a remote stretch of the woods having the very conversation that caused him to wake in a cold sweat some nights. Still, Arthur had carted him off through the woods to discuss his magic, he hadn't told anyone else yet of Merlin's outstretched hand and golden eyes, and there was a chance that he might, _might_ just get out of this alive. Or Arthur could just be interrogating him before sentencing him to death. Either was a possibility at this point.

"Meaning?" Arthur eyes narrowed in Merlin's direction.

"I was born with magic, I neither learnt nor studied it." Arthur gaped at him, something he considered very unbecoming of a King, but did so nonetheless at the knowledge his manservant was more powerful than he could've ever imagined.

"Is that even possible?" He was staggered, never before had he heard of such a thing, and certainly had never expected Merlin to be so… unique.

"It's rare – extremely rare. But it happens." Merlin shrugged, but he inside he was feeling the same sting in his heart as every time he was teased as a child, or failed to save someone, or even when listening to a rant about the evils of magic. He knew this self-pity was pointless – he was such an important figure with an earth-shattering prophesy, yet some days he daydreamed what it would be like to be normal, if he had a few idle moments. Being Arthur's manservant, he had very few idle moments.

"Why did you come to Camelot?" Arthur's tone was only slightly harsh, he sounded more curious than anything, squinting at Merlin as if truly looking at him for the first time.

"My mother. She was worried about what would happen to me if the villagers in Ealdor discovered I had magic," he gave a humourless laugh, "though why she thought I would be safer directly under Uther's nose I have no clue." Aside from the fact that his mother had sent him to learn from Gaius, Merlin didn't know what she was thinking sending him into the Lion's den. Perhaps if his magic were discovered he would have been extradited from the village, or sent to Camelot to face trial, but at least then he'd have a fighting chance of escaping. Coming to Camelot had seemed to Merlin like such a bad idea when he first arrived, and it was a thought that entered his mind still from time to time.

"Does Gaius know?" Arthur had been mulling his next question over in his head, though he pretty much knew the answer already – the elderly physician was like a father to Merlin, and had practised sorcery when he was younger – there was little doubt that Gaius knew of Merlin's talents.

"Always has. The moment I first walked through his door he fell from that rickety old balcony. I moved a bed underneath him to break his fall." Merlin cringed at the recollection of his chaotic first day in Camelot, witnessing the execution of a sorcerer and then being interrogated about him magic thoroughly by the cranky old man he was to stay with, not to mention the fight he'd gotten into with crown prince Arthur himself.

"Who else knows?"

"Aside from my mother and Gaius? Only Lancelot." Merlin sighed, the pain of losing his only friend that he could be truly honest with still all too fresh.

"Lancelot?" Arthur's tone was sharp, laden with hurt at the thought Merlin had confided in someone other than him.

"I never told him. He figured it out the moment we met, he wasn't the one to slay the griffin." Arthur almost sighed in relief, though it made him wonder if Merlin was ever planning on telling anyone about his magic, or like Gaius, Lancelot and himself, everyone was doomed to happen upon this massive secret.

"You were," Arthur murmured, realisation suddenly striking him, "how many times have you done something like that and let another take credit?"

"More than I can remember. You must've thought yourself so lucky what with all those falling branches and bandits tripping over their own feet."

"All of those were you?" Arthur had always considered himself either extremely lucky or to have a guardian angel atop his shoulder, he had just never expected the angel to come in the form of his lanky, clumsy servant.

"Why do you think I hid? I wasn't cowering, I was saving your life." Merlin allowed himself a grin, a massive weight being lifted from his shoulders. Merlin didn't save Arthur for praise or recognition or glory, but he hoped now no longer he would be considered the coward quivering behind a tree, and instead be considered the hero silently defending his king.

"Saving me?" Arthur scoffed out of habit, believing Merlin could do extraordinary things was going to take some getting used to.

"You heard." Merlin shot a glare towards Arthur, though he wasn't mad at him, not really. He was always a little hurt when others deemed him so weak. There was a pause in the conversation as Arthur grew silent, not daring ask the next question on his lips for fear of the answer.

"Are you Emrys?" Merlin took a breath and steeled his nerve.

"That's what the druids call me. Though I'd much prefer they call me Merlin." He chuckled to himself, trying to lighten the situation, though quickly stopped when he saw Arthur's face darkening.

"You killed my father." It was an emotionless statement delivered in monotone, there was no anger, nor understanding, just simple fact.

"I was trying to save him, I swear. Morgana had placed an enchanted necklace on him. Anything I did was reversed – thus my healing magic hurt him further."

"Are you going to kill me?" Arthur shifted, uncomfortable with the entire situation, asking Merlin a question that should never be directed at him, his hand subconciosuly reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"No. I use my magic to protect you Arthur. Always. I'd never hurt you I swear. Besides, if I was planning to kill you, don't you think five years is a long time to be scheming? I'd be a rubbish assassin." Again with some light humour which went down like a lead balloon.

"Five years of lies." Arthur's voice wavered if only for a moment.

"Five years of protecting you whilst living in constant fear," he corrected the King, his tone growing frustrated, keeping calm be damned. He hated having to justify his actions to Arthur. "You know, I could ask the same of you, will you kill me now you know the truth?"

"I don't know, you broke the law Merlin! I can't just do nothing!" Arthur fingers balled into shaky fists, looking for any target aside from his stupid, idiotic manservant, but decided against hitting one of the many trees – he didn't fancy weeks of a bandaged hand and trips to Gaius.

"I didn't have a choice! It was either break the damn law, or let you die, over and over and over again!" Merlin was shouting by now, why was it so hard for the prat to understand? Merlin had never acted maliciously towards Arthur, he had done nothing but be there for him since the day he became his servant.

"What?" Merlin almost laughed at how shocked Arthur seemed about the fact that his servant could possibly save his life – numerous times.

"God, you are such an idiot. You look but don't see. You don't see what I've done for you. What I've lost for you. Just look at me." Merlin pulled his shirt over his head, and let it drop to the floor, revealing his pink and white patchwork skin. "Can you see now?" He hissed.

Arthur could only stare at the mismatch of scars that coated his body, from the thin barely visible puckered lines from nicks on his arms, caused from escaping hurriedly from bandits, to the deeper scars that once were gashes caused by knives, swords, axes, talons… you name it, to the dark burnt flesh in the middle of his chest, a constant reminder of Arthur's almost death, Gaius' almost death and Nimueh actual death. Once he'd proved his point, Merlin hurriedly pulled his shirt back over his body, not allowing any more time for Arthur to take in the horrific sight.

"You've got scars," Arthur seemed transfixed on Merlin's now clothed skin, "more than any knight I've ever seen."

"Well done sire. You finally opened your eyes." Merlin huffed and stared nonchalantly into the distance.

"I guess I have." Arthur looked almost ashamedly at his servant. "You've suffered all that… for me?"

"I guess I have." Merlin shrugged, growing quiet for a moment as if debating whether to carry on the conversation. "Though there are scars that aren't so… visible."

"Will?" Arthur felt nervous approaching the subject of Merlin's friend.

"One of many. He never had magic by the way, it was me all along, but he took the blame. Ever since we were children he had known about me; he was the only one in my village to accept me. To everyone else I was the 'freakish bastard with the big ears'."

"There are other scars?" He tried not to push but Merlin had promised him the entire story.

"Yes."

"Who?" Arthur whispered, refraining from offering Merlin any sign of comfort – he was, of course, still livid at his servant, though anger was fading fast into hurt, sadness, pity and awe.

"My father." Merlin was forcing the words out one by one, as if every syllable burnt his tongue.

"I thought you didn't know who he was."

"I didn't. Not until the day before he died. Do you remember when the dragon attacked Camelot?" Merlin's gaze wouldn't meet Arthur's.

"How could I forget?" Arthur scoffed, memories of fire and screams plaguing his mind.

"We went looking for the last dragonlord, a man named Balinor."

"Yes, but he died…" There was a pause before Arthur finally caught on. "Balinor was your father?" Merlin nodded. "And I told you not to cry." Arthur cringed at how tactless he'd been, but he had no idea that the man his servant had wept over had been his father. "That means that you're-"

"A dragonlord. Yes." Arthur shook his head and let out a short disbelieving laugh.

"What else don't I know about you?" Merlin stiffened, and scrunched his eyes before letting out a name carried on a single breath.

"Freya."

"Freya?"

"She was kind and sweet and beautiful," a blush crept momentarily over Merlin's pale skin, "and she accepted my magic." He smiled sadly, letting himself to remember what tragically short time they had had together.

"What happened?" Arthur's tone was gentle, as if coaxing a spooked horse out of a trance.

"Freya was… cursed. She would transform into this vicious animal. One night she became out of control and attacked Camelot. She… you…" Merlin seemed to be in pain at the memory and Arthur's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh god Merlin, did I-" Arthur couldn't even finish the sentence, his stomach rolling in disgust at the mere thought he'd caused the death of someone so close to Merlin. He didn't have to think anymore when Merlin nodded. Arthur bit his lip and fixated on a spot of grass on the ground that had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. He was more than surprised when Merlin gently touched his shoulder, allowing himself to look up into the calm blue lakes that inhabited his eyes, not a hint of anger clouding them. "I'm so sorry. What I did was, is, unforgivable."

"You freed her Arthur. She couldn't stand to be cursed anymore. She… she's found her peace." Merlin nodded acceptingly. One day. One day he'd be reunited with her, but for now, memories would suffice. There was but one question left hanging in the air like a thick smog and it came from the warlock rather than the King. "Am I still your servant?" He asked tentatively, eyes cast firmly to the ground.

"No Merlin." The boy looked up at Arthur, hurt burning in his eyes, expecting some sort of malicious outburst, but Arthur's face softened, a small smile creeping across his features. "You are my friend."


End file.
